The Sketchbook
by Uzamaki Sasuke
Summary: Sasuke had a small, minuscule, insignificant crush on the loudest blond he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. To vent his one-sided romance frustrations, he filled a sketchbook, just of him; which, in hindsight, might not have been the smartest decision he had ever made. It wasn't, however, the dumbest one he had ever made. NARUSASU FLUFF T for language ONE-SHOT Complete


**A/n:** I moved primarily to AO3 so I almost forgot I have to actually put my author's note in the fic. It's late, I'm half asleep, this was originally posted to Tumblr so it is not new. This was the fic that officially brought me out of my 4 year hiatus.

Loosely inspired by the animated short film "In a Heartbeat" by Beth David and Esteban Bravo (2017).

Enjoy.

* * *

Losing his sketchbook was, quite possibly, the worst thing to have ever happened to him.

Sasuke didn't know when it happened, but he had developed a small, minuscule, insignificant crush on the loudest blond he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. He kept telling himself that the crush was just a tiny thing brought on by their accidental kiss in middle school, and he believed himself every time he said it.

Until it didn't go away.

* * *

Now it was junior year of high school, and the crush was as bad as they come. He found himself watching the blond longingly or letting loose the tiniest of smiles whenever he heard that stupid laugh, no matter how far away from him the source was. He was dying knowing that he couldn't dare tell the blond in fear of rejection and the gnawing fear that the other students of the school were as homophobic as he believed them to be.

He supposed he didn't know why he thought this, seeing as there were a number of students who had come out, including the blond himself, who happened to be bi. He guessed that the fear came from the fact that he was always 'Mr. Perfect', the quiet, intelligent, brooding type, and that somehow his sexuality did not fit the description. So, in order to keep these thoughts at bay, he decided to draw the blond in his sketchbook.

The first few sketchbooks had various drawings of various subjects, but the one he was just so unfortunate enough to lose was the one that had just the blond.

Thank God he didn't draw anything nsfw because that would have been a whole lot worse. He had also managed to not draw himself in the pictures, except the one, but that was just a picture of them holding a conversation. But, nevertheless, there WERE pictures of the blond, and there was no shortage of them in the book.

* * *

The first problem with losing the sketchbook was the fact that, for a whopping three class periods, Sasuke had no idea the sketchbook was not in his backpack.

The second problem was when he was rummaging through his locker during passing period to get his science textbook when someone slammed it shut, called him a faggot, and proceeded to strut down the hallway as if he was the most impressive man in the world.

The third one would be the panic as Sasuke looked through his backpack to find out he could not locate the sketchbook.

The fourth, and, probably the worst one, was the haunting realization that someone, somewhere, was in possession of that damned sketchbook and that they were showing people his drawings of the blond.

You know what? Scratch that. The FIFTH problem was by far the worst one yet.

Holy fuck, there was a very, very, VERY good chance that the sketchbook would make its way to the blond.

Holy shit.

—-

For a few agonizing weeks, more and more unfamiliar people would approach him and very politely tell him exactly how they felt about his homosexuality. Except they weren't polite. They were very, very mean.

Sasuke was on his way to lunch when he caught what seemed to be the end of a very heated conversation staring everybody's favourite blond.

"- You deserve to be called a cunt." The blond said, the usual joking lilt in his voice absent.

"How dare you say that to me!" Whatever woman on the receiving end of the blond's anger exclaimed.

"Fuck you, and fuck the high horse you rode in on."

The crowd that prohibited Sasuke from seeing the exchange let out a collective "ooooooh" in amusement. Sasuke decided to continue to lunch because, frankly, he didn't like hearing that malicious undertone in the blond's voice.

—-

Sasuke sat alone against the wall outside of the school during their lunch period because, honestly, the whole school seemed to be against him at the moment. He sighed and dropped his head onto his folded legs as he heard footsteps approach him. He readied himself for whatever variation of 'go kill yourself, faggot' they had come up with THIS time.

What he wasn't expecting to hear was the cheerful voice he so loved to be directed right at him for once.

"Hey!" The blond greeted him happily as he slid down next to Sasuke.

Sasuke looked up at him and holy fuck did he forget how breath taking that God damned smile was. He could feel the happiness moving through him until he glanced down and saw the accursed sketchbook in the lap of the subject of the drawings it contained.

Oh fuck.

The blond looked down at the sketchbook before slowly handing it to the other boy. Sasuke tentatively reached out to grasp it lightly before dragging it to him.

"They weren't planning on giving it back," The blond said softly. "That's kind of shitty of them, isn't it?"

Sasuke elected to stay silent because, quite frankly, he had no idea what to say to make this less awkward for the both of them.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before the blond spoke up again.

"Hey, Sasuke…" he started, seemingly unsure of himself. Sasuke braced himself for the dreaded questions. "Can I ask you a question?"

That sound right there? Did you hear it? That was Sasuke's soul leaving his body.

The blond lightly took the sketchbook back and flipped through to a page and stopped. He lifted the sketchbook to show Sasuke the drawing he had done of the both of them talking.

"Can I keep this?"

Sasuke looked at him in disbelief. Surely that wasn't what the blond was REALLY going to ask.

"Uh…" Sasuke swallowed in a feeble attempt to wet his suddenly dry throat. "…sure?"

The blond lit up like a damned Christmas tree. So maybe that WAS what he was going to ask.

"Oh my god, thank you! Like, you don't understand, your art style is probably the cutest thing I've ever seen." Sasuke looked at him funny.

"That's it?" Sasuke asked.

"Um…" the blond paused to think. "Can you take it out for me? I'd hate to accidentally fuck up your sketchbook."

"No, I mean, aren't you going to yell at me? For, like… I don't know, they keep saying it seems like I'm stalking you. Which I'm not! I just… I guess I can't believe that you're not mad. I guess." Sasuke's voice had dropped down to a mumble towards the end. Now it was the blond's turn to look at Sasuke funny.

"Why would I be mad at you?" He asked while handing the sketchbook back. Sasuke took it and carefully tore out the page.

"I don't know." Sasuke confessed. He handed the page to the other boy.

"Oh, can you sign it? Pretty please?" Sasuke couldn't help but smile a little as he took the page to sign it before handing it back.

The blond held it out at arm's length to admire it.

"Hell yeah, this is going straight on my wall." He said contently. He turned to Sasuke again. "Thanks."

The blond started to stand up to leave, thought for a bit, turned back to Sasuke and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"It's gonna be okay, ya know?" He said before flashing one of those blinding smiles and leaving.

Sasuke sat still for a moment before smiling broadly like an idiot. He picked his sketchbook up, leafing through the pictures before he stopped at what WAS a blank page when he had lost it.

On the page was a picture of a smiling Sasuke drawn haphazardly in Sharpie with a phone number scrawled beneath it, next to the words 'Call me' with ten thousand exclamation points trailing behind. On the bottom the page was signed: Naruto Uzumaki.

Sasuke clutched the sketchbook to his chest and let the strong emotions wash over him with that idiotic grin still plastered on his usually emotionless face.

Losing his sketchbook was, quite possibly, the best thing to have ever happened to him.


End file.
